


Are You Satisfied With Your Care

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Drinking, Even villains need hugs, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, as slow a burn as my impatient ass can manage, except with brandy, hux hates doctors appointments, into every fic a little angst must fall, medical examinations, medtechs get their revenge, of course the finalizer would have baymax units, sad times are gonna clear up, this is actually turning out canon compliant, wine mom hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Hux is much too busy for trifling matters like routine checkups.  Unfortunately for him there is an obscure protocol that may be invoked by First Order medical staff if officers defer appointments too many times.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I actually dreamed this. Brain why?

Returning to his quarters after pulling yet another double shift, Hux skidded to a halt at the sight of the red crate sitting in the middle of his receiving room. Circling it, he noted the First Order emblem on the front, as well as a delivery placard inscribed with his name above a medbay code. 

He had missed his checkup appointment for the third time this afternoon, but construction on the new Starkiller had reached a crucial point and he'd seen no purpose in wasting an hour being poked and prodded by droids when he was in perfectly acceptable health. He'd deleted the reminders and ignored the message that came fifteen minutes after his appointment was supposed to start. Scrolling back, he opened it, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he read. 

_General Hux,_

_The health of our commanding officers is imperative to ensure the First Order operates at peak efficiency. As you are unable to make time in your busy schedule to come to medbay you have been issued a Personal Healthcare Companion. It is capable of conducting examinations at all times and without disrupting your work. These units are extremely expensive, and you are asked not to activate this unit in the presence of Kylo Ren. To active this unit, simply say "Ow."_

"Ow? This must be a joke."

He couldn't be so lucky. At his words a light flashed around the edges of the emblem on the crate and radiated outwards along the seam at top. The top folded back and the sides dropped away and a white, vaguely humanoid shape emerged, inflating as it rose.

"What the blazes?"

It waddled forward, coming to a halt a few paces in front of him. Hux blinked in surprise as it raised one puffy arm in a facsimile of a wave.

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'."

Hux felt his jaw working but no words came out. He couldn't ever remember finding himself in a situation more ridiculous.

"I don't need medical attention," he finally got out, closing his mouth with a snap afterwards.

"I will scan you now."

The ridiculously tiny head tilted to one side, bobbing up and down.

"Scan complete."

What, really? Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"I am detecting elevated blood pressure, decreased cytokine levels and a slight weight gain since your last examination. Your physical appearance and irritability levels, combined with these physical factors, indicate lack of sufficient sleep. Your blood shows a deficiency in several key nutrients. I am prescribing a regimen of supplements and recommending you implement a regular sleep schedule." It stilled for an instant. "The cafeteria has been informed of your dietary requirements and a 'do not disturb' notice has been placed in your schedule for your sleeping shift. Your datapad will only forward urgent messages to you during this time period. Your dinner should arrive shortly."

"What?!?"

"We will continue with this routine for a week at which time I will conduct another examination to see if this meets your needs."

"This is unacceptable!" Hux poked at his datapad, but the lock that had been inserted wouldn't allow him to remove it. "I thought these examinations weren't supposed to disrupt my work!"

"You are in your quarters and your shift ended thirty seven minutes ago. There is no disruption."

"I still have messages to review."

"Your shift ended thirty seven minutes ago. Correction: thirty eight minutes ago."

A human would have voided their bladder in fear at the glare Hux unleashed but Baymax remained unaffected.

"You have been a good boy. Have a lollipop."

Where this giant inflatable marshmallow had stored the bright pink confection on a stick that he held out to Hux in his squishy appendage, Hux had no idea, and didn't really care to boot. Hoping to get this travesty over with, he snatched the candy from its hand.

"We will continue on this course for a week and I will conduct nightly scans to monitor any changes in your physical condition. If you are satisfied with your care I can deactivate."

"Satisfied?" Hux practically shrieked. "When you tell me this nonsense is going to last for a week? I am not bloody well satisfied."

"I cannot deactivate until you state you are satisfied with your care."

"So you'll just stand there staring at me unless I lie?"

"My scanners indicate elevated pulse and a spike in your adrenaline levels. I would advise a period of meditation before retiring to optimize your rest." It blinked at him. Why did it even have eyes. "If you are satisfied with your care I can deactivate."

Fuming, Hux gritted his teeth. "I am satisfied with my care." As he watched, the thing waddled back to its crate and deflated as the sides folded up, enclosing it back in its bright red casing.

"That's blackmail. From a droid. I am not going to deal with this thing again." Sending off a furious message to the medic listed on the inventory code, he tried again to access his inbox, but the restrictions the droid had put in place resisted all his attempts to override them. Just as he was considering pitching the pad across the room his door chimed, his dinner delivered just as promised.

"I'll have this thing removed in the morning," Hux muttered to himself as he accepted the tray from the droid. "I will not have my duties constrained by an overinflated squeaky toy." Yes, he’d have whoever was responsible transferred, have the crate spaced, and get on with his life. 

“Am I satisfied with my care? Who programmed that thing anyways?”

At least he’d gotten his exam out of the way, so they wouldn’t bother him for another quarter. Digging into his dinner, he vowed to forget the whole experience.

The lollipop tasted like strawberries.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hux stormed into medbay the next morning before his shift began, the medtechs all shrank back from him, but stood firm in the face of his demands.

"I'm sorry, General, sir, but once a Baymax unit has been deployed it cannot be released from its patient until it has signed off on the completion of the treatment it has prescribed.

Finally he understood why Kylo Ren took his lightsabers to consoles. If he'd had access to a blaster right now he'd be short one medbay and its entire staff. One tech in particular seemed to have a death wish.

"If you hadn't missed your appointment so many times, we wouldn't be in this situation, sir, but it's protocol for officers above a certain rank. We've got no control over it," she squeaked out, looking about ready to faint.

"How long am I going to have to deal with it, then?" He'd never heard of such a protocol, and it wouldn't surprise him if they'd just invented it on the spot to save their sorry asses.

"Once it's signed off on your treatment ...."

He left before the woman could finish her sentence.

Two hours into the morning shift a service droid appeared on the command deck, bearing a tray. It made a beeline for Hux.

"You did not log breakfast this morning, sir."

Almost as if they were one giant being, the entire command crew glued themselves to the monitors at their stations as Hux yanked the tray from the droid's arms and stomped into the adjacent conference room. He made sure to visit the nearest cafeteria for lunch to avoid another delivery but missed the dinner hour and had his briefing interrupted with another meal tray. The droid hovered until he worked his way through the rations. As the end of the shift approached, he found himself dreading his next examination.

Maybe if he just didn't go back to his quarters he could pretend this wasn't happening?

His datapad pinged exactly one minute hour after his shift ended, the message flagged as important.

 _You are now off duty. An exercise room has been reserved for your use with this suggested routine to relieve the day's stresses,_ the message read. An appointment had been added to his calender, for thirty minutes from now, showing the room reservation. A list of suggested exercises had been attached.

He deleted it, and the reminder that arrived fifteen minutes later, and the one ten after that and he kept deleting them but they kept showing up, every five minutes, and his datapad kept pinging until he opened the messages. Finally he gave in. Grudgingly working his way through the stretching exercises detailed for him, he lingered in the shower, enjoying the play of hot water on his skin. It might not be so bad if he'd chosen this course of activity, he decided, but the way he'd been tormented into it raised his hackles. He'd hated this kind of petty harassment as a cadet, and as a general he shouldn't have to endure it again.

When he entered his quarters a light flashed behind the First Order logo on Baymax's crate.

"Alright, I'm here, dammit. Let's get this over with."

The unit continued to blink.

"I'm here for my checkup, Baymax. Come on. You are apparently desperate to get this done, so what are you waiting for?"

The light continued to beep, and Hux remembered.

"You don't seriously expect me to say 'ow' every single time, do you?"

Apparently it did, because before he finished the sentence the crate opened.

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'."

With a wordless scream, Hux threw his datapad at Baymax. The droid caught it effortlessly in one of its pillow hands.

"You seem upset, General. Your stress levels are reading higher than yesterday."

"Yes, because my day has been interrupted and my schedule disrupted, all because of you."

"I'm sorry that you feel this way, but it is my purpose to help you achieve a physical state that will allow you to perform your duties in an improved fashion."

"And how does interrupting my day and disrupting my schedule achieve this?"

"You have not been taking proper care of yourself. With my assistance you will establish good habits that will return you to optimal health." 

Hux threw up his hands in disgust. "Get on with it, then, why don't you?"

"I will scan you know."

"Scan complete."

"Well?"

"Well, what, sir?"

"What did your scan show?"

"Aside from the elevated stress levels that are attributed to your show of temper on activating me, there are no significant changes from yesterday's scan."

"Why not? I got a good night's sleep and three full meals."

"It would be unrealistic to expect that one day of good habits would immediately counteract weeks or months of poor habits."

"Then why did you bother taking a scan if you knew there wouldn't be any changes?"

"It is important to establish a baseline for comparison. You have been a good boy. Have a lollipop."

Another pink candy appeared and Hux snatched it out of Baymax' hand. "Are we done now?"

"We will continue with this course of treatment. If you are satisfied with your care I can deactivate."

"I am satisfied with my care." Hux packed every ounce of sarcasm in his body into the sentence. 

This time the lollipop was bubble gum flavored.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Six days later:_ **

"Ow."

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'."

"Do you really have to say that every single time?"

"I am programmed to do so every time I am activated."

He needed to have words with the team that had developed that programming. Serious words. Harsh words. Interspersed with beatings.

"Scanning now."

"Scan complete. Now that I have established a baseline scans will be taken on a weekly basis."

"A weekly basis? You mean we're not done yet?"

"A week is not long enough to establish the patterns that will allow you to remain in optimum condition."

"But after that week is over we'll be through. Won't we?"

"I will reevaluate your progress after a week's time. Treatment may continue depending on the results of my next scan."

He'd known what the thing would say already, but he'd asked anyways, out of some perverse urge to torture himself. 

"My sensors indicate that you are becoming agitated. Do you need a hug?"

"A what?"

Hux barely had time to get the two syllables out before the Baymax unit had waddled across the short distance separating them. He found himself engulfed in those inflated arms and squeezed against the thing's balloon body.

"There, there." A hand patted his head. This had to be a dream. Something had happened, maybe a Resistance attack? He'd been injured and was at this moment floating in a bacta tank, recovering. Bacta always gave him strange dreams. It was the only reasonable explanation as to why he was in this current situation. Baymax radiated heat, he realized. Not at an uncomfortable level. More like a warm bath, or an electric blanket. He vibrated too, just barely, just enough to be soothing. A part of him hated himself for relaxing into the embrace, but the rest of him melted bit by bit. Maybe he should look into requisitioning something soft and warm and soothing that didn't talk and couldn't get into his datapad and rearrange his life.

This time, when Baymax told him he was a good boy and offered him a lollipop, he wasn't overcome with a murderous rage. He did have a question, though.

"Why are these always pink?"

"Your fondness for this particular color was noted during your years at the academy."

"My instructors thought I liked pink things?"

"You always chose strawberry ice cream when treats were made available. The non-regulation undergarments discovered in your quarters during one random inspection were described as 'pink lace with darker pink satin trim'. You mentioned pink balloons at a childhood birthday party during one session with your adviser."

"So because of a few random instances my file says I like the color pink?"

He got that head-tilt again.

"I can procure other colors of lollipops, if you would prefer?"

"No, don't bother." He would not admit that pink was, in fact, his favorite color. He'd suffered enough indignities in his life already.

**_One week later:_ **

"Ow."

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'."

Baymax plowed through its litany, but Hux could see its eyes tracking the newest addition to his quarters. The little orange ball of fluff skittered across the floor, chasing the cleaning droid Hux had modified, batting at the ball it trailed behind it as it zigzagged its way from one corner to the other.

The kitten screeched to a halt when the droid scooted between Baymax' legs, sliding on the slick floor and coming to a stop just in front of Baymax. When Baymax reached down to her, she retreated, doubling in size as her fur fluffed and she hissed in alarm.

"It's okay. I feel that way about it too, sometimes."

"You have acquired a pet." Baymax didn't state this as a question but Hux took it as such anyways.

"She somehow managed to sneak onto a supply shuttle." The droid didn't need to know that occurrence had engendered a serious shakedown and a full security review, because then he'd have to admit how he'd found himself holding the kitten somehow while it occurred. No matter how much he wanted this droid packed back off to medical, it wasn't worth the possibility of it coming up, how the kitten's string of meeps as it kneaded the sleeve of his uniform and the surprisingly loud purr it had emitted before drifting off to sleep in his arms had reminded him of that hug from the week before.

Once she'd determined that the scary large squeaky thing wasn't a threat, the kitten ignored it and went back to chasing the cleaning droid.

"I've named her Millicent."

"I am glad you are taking positive steps in regards to your mental health of your own volition, General. You are making important progress."

"Yes, yes." Hux barely paid attention to the medical droid, so caught up in Millicent's antics he tuned out Baymax's scan and resultant rundown of his condition. 

"You have been a very good boy. Have a lollipop."

The label on the wrapper proclaimed tonight's flavor to be cherry vanilla. Although the sweet itself was disappointing ("cotton candy", whatever that was, having been his favorite so far), watching Millicent trying to keep the crumpled up wrapper out of the cleaning droid's clutches made up for it.


	4. Chapter 4

Finding Baymax's crate open when he returned to his quarters brought Hux up short. Had someone been in here? And how had they known how to activate the unit? A scan of his receiving room showed it to be empty. 

"Baymax?"

"Millicent's meow sounds sufficiently like an 'ow' to activate me, but she is unable to approximate my shutdown sequence." 

The droid's voice emanated from his sleeping quarters. Baymax sat on the floor, leaning up against Hux's wardrobe, cuddling Millicent in one arm and scratching the cat between the ears with a chubby digit. The kitten stretched, claws extended, and Hux heard a high-pitched hissing noise. 

"She is also very pointy. I have exhausted the supply of sealant in my internal repair mechanisms." 

"You have got to be kidding me." 

"Kidding is not a function of my programming." 

Rummaging about in the drawers of his desk, he found a transpariseal dispenser tucked away in a back corner. Baymax pushed itself up and waddled over to his desk, Millicent still tucked in the crook of its elbow. 

"Where are the punctures?"

"It will be more efficient for me to perform the repairs myself than to attempt to tell you where the punctures are." 

With a show of reluctance, Hux took his cat from the droid, keeping his smile firmly in check as the kitten scaled his front to come to rest on his shoulder, giving his neck a swipe with her little tongue before tucking in. 

While Baymax carefully ripped a piece of 'seal from the roll, Hux typed a service request in his datapad one handed while he rubbed the fingers of his other hand along Millicent’s cheek. Apparently servicing his medical droid was an acceptable use of his time in off hours, because the message actually went through, and he received confirmation in under a minute that a tech was on his way. 

At the chime announcing the tech's arrival, Hux discovered the first drawback to having a cat, as Millicent yowled in fright and attempted to scale his head. Those little claws were sharp indeed. He called for the tech to enter as he tried to extract the kitten, but one of her hind claws had gotten stuck in his collar. His yelp of pain when a claw scored his ear set Baymax off, and the droid waddled over in an attempt to assist. Unfortunately, it had been just about to tear off another piece of 'seal, so as it moved the adhesive strip unspooled behind it, forming a shimmering line between Baymax's outstretched finger and Hux's desk. 

He could almost pity the poor tech, who stood gaping at the scene in front of him. A laugh nearly escaped him at the ridiculousness of it all. Baymax insisted on treating the scratches before allowing the tech to see to him. The droid had reached the end of the roll of tape, however, and the twitching length was too much for Millicent to resist. 

Unsticking the kitten from the tape resulted in more scratches to both Hux and the hapless tech, which required more treatment. At last, ruffled fur smoothed and a treat procured, the kitten curled up on Hux's pillow, exposing all her little teeth in a massive yawn before curling up with her paws over her nose and going to sleep. Hux sympathized. After all this excitement, he wouldn’t mind a nap himself. Or a drink. Yes, a drink was an excellent idea.

"Um, well, now that's settled, can I ...?" The tech gestured at Baymax, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. 

"Yes, yes." 

Had his hair been that messy when he walked in, or was Millicent to blame? And had his glasses been crooked all along or had they become bent in the scuffle? His dinner arrived, interrupting his thought process. This time Millicent slept through the door chime. Although still nervous, the tech seemed efficient and knowledgeable. He had to deflate Baymax's outer casing to reach his framework, and the sight of all that white fabric hanging limp from the droid's endoskeleton disturbed Hux more than he cared to admit. 

He'd just finished his meal and was pouring himself a drink when the tech completed his survey, and the man kept darting him glances as he made some final adjustments and closed the access port. Hux took pity on him. 

"Is there something the matter?" 

"Um, well, I thought ... I mean ... I can leave some extra sealant, and show you ... in case ... well, you know ...." And he gestured at the sleeping kitten, pushing his oversized glasses up his nose as he looked anywhere but at Hux. 

"If that will spare my skin from further abuse, then yes, by all means." 

The tech demonstrated the process, and Hux repeated the steps, including how to re-inflate Baymax. When the droid had fully puffed out again, it held out its arms, twisting its hands back and forth. 

"No further leaks detected. I am returned to optimum performance levels." 

"If that's all, sir?" He looked up and Hux caught his eyes for the first time. The unspoken _you will not speak of this on pain of transfer to the most horrid posting imaginable_ hung in the air between them. The tech's laryngeal prominence bobbed conspicuously as he swallowed, bobbing his head at the unspoken command. 

"Okay. Good, then. Er .... Baymax, I am satisfied with my care." 

Not waiting for Hux's dismissal, the tech fled, squeezing through the door before it had opened completely and before Baymax's box had finished closing around him. After he left, Hux propped himself up in bed next to his sleeping kitten, reclaiming his drink from his desk. 

It wasn't until he'd reached the bottom of the glass that the realization hit him. 

"I didn't get a lollipop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make up a Star Wars equivalent of scotch tape for this chapter. Also, couldn't resist throwing in Matt!


	5. Chapter 5

With his shift over and his responsibilities locked away, Hux had almost gotten used to quiet evenings, tucked away in his quarters. He'd discovered his datapad allowed him to access entertainment holos and data tapes, and had been catching up on some First Order approved reading. He was deep into a chapter of Pre-empire history when that particular series of shrill chirps that indicated an urgent message sounded from his pad, causing him to nearly drop it in surprise.

Calling up the message, he read it, then reread it again, and swore. 

The alert had removed all of Baymax' locks from his pad, it seemed. He was able to order up his shuttle, and it allowed him to convey a series of messages while he traversed the corridors to the shuttle bay. As he was en route to Starkiller Base, another message arrived.

_Healthcare restrictions temporarily lifted during state of emergency. Regimen will recommence upon return to The Finalizer._

"Huh. I should schedule more emergencies." Realizing he'd said that out loud, he glanced around, but the pilots hadn't appeared to have heard him, or they were doing a stellar job of pretending they hadn't.

Once arriving on the base and conferring with the scientists, it was determined that a one hundredth of a degree miscalculation in the equations for a containment field had resulted in an implosion in one of the core reactors. He ended up spending two weeks on the planet overseeing the repairs and adjusting the schedule. There was a collective intake of breath the first time he ordered the harried specialists to go take a meal and a night's rest, but they scurried dutifully off. He pushed all of them hard, himself included, but he could always hear Baymax’s voice in the back of his brain. Within the first few days he'd redone the roster, establishing a rotating schedule so brains were always working but every specialist had one shift restricted for rest, and efficiencies had risen by a full three percent by the end of the first week.

Charged with overseeing Millicent's care, Mitaka sent him holos several times a day, as per his general's instructions. One vid in particular he played over and over, of Millicent sitting on the cleaner droid as it went about its duties in his quarters. No crises arose on the ship in his absence, and by the time he headed back things were progressing and with the increased efficiencies they would regain most of the time lost within the next four months. 

He settled back into his routine seamlessly upon his return to the _Finalizer_ , including the enforced rest shift. On his first evening back, he even activated the Baymax unit without prompting.

"Ow."

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'."

Tapping his foot in impatience, Hux waited out the standard litany.

“It is good to see you back, General.”

That was unexpected. It almost sounded like genuine warmth in the droid’s voice.

“I hope that the emergency situation was not too stressful for you?”

“It could have been worse. We are back on track now.”

“That is good. Although I would not wish emergencies on any of my patients, this will be useful, as it will give me more data to compile on how your systems deal with such stress.”

“Well, I’m glad some good will come out of it, then.” 

“Scanning now.”

Hux waited, past the few seconds that the scan usually took and then several more. Baymax didn’t say anything, but continued to stare at Hux, head tilted to one side.

“Well?”

“Unexpected.”

“Unexpected? How so?”

“Your vitals do not show the signs of deterioration I expected after forgoing your healthcare regimen for the last few weeks.”

“Well, I didn’t completely throw it out. I made sure to eat regular meals, and set up a schedule for the scientists that I followed as well.”

“That would account for some of my measurements, but not others. Your serotonin levels are the highest I have seen since we began your treatment and your neurotransmitter levels are stable.”

Baymax stood silently for another span of seconds, head still canted at an angle that made Hux’s own neck ache.

“You interacted with the scientists while you were away?”

“Well, yes. They are working off of my initial designs, after all.”

“And you enjoy this work. And the company of others.”

“Well, yes, but I enjoy my command of this ship as well.”

“But you do not interact with your crew as you did with the scientists.”

“No, of course not. The scientists are not in my direct chain of command. It wouldn’t be proper for me fraternize with my officers.”

“That is the difference, then. You do not socialize while stationed here on this vessel.”

“As I said….”

“You must follow chain of command, yes.” 

Hux blinked in surprise at the interruption, and gaped at Baymax’ next statement.

“But you do have one equivalent in rank aboard this ship.”

Oh, no. It did not just go there.

“There is no one equivalent to me on the _Finalizer_.”

“That is incorrect. Kylo Ren has shared command of this vessel.”

He’d be damned if he let this inflated bag of bolts compare him to that walking disaster.

“Messaging Kylo Ren now.”

“What?!? No. I absolutely forbid this.” 

“Kylo Ren has been messaged.”

“Delete the message now, Baymax.”

“Message has been read. Kylo Ren has accepted the meeting request.”

“WHAT REQUEST?”

“Kylo Ren will be joining you for drinks tonight here in your quarters.”

“This is a nightmare.”

Hux sank into a chair, head held between his hands.

“Are you alright, General? My scans do not indicate any pain, but your pose suggests the onset of a headache. I can prescribe an analgesic if needed.”

“No, Baymax. I think you’ve done enough for tonight.” Hux mumbled out the deactivation phrase through his fingers and held a hand out blindly when Baymax doled out the ritual lollipop. He crunched the hard candy savagely between his teeth, imagining the sound that echoed through his skull to be the crushing of servomotors and fittings in a trash compactor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated the tags for the drinking Hux does in this chapter

Consulting his calendar showed that, yes, an appointment had been added for that evening. In slightly more than two hours, according to the box outlined in green, Kylo Ren would be standing outside his door. He spent a fruitless minute wishing the box on his schedule showed blue, which meant unread, or better yet, red, for declined, but he wasn't one to waste time wallowing on about things he couldn't change, so he forged on ahead, positioning a chair for a visitor. Since Baymax had specified drinks on the invitation, he dusted off an extra glass. And while he was at it, he got a head start on the drinking. 

Halfway through his second glass he decided once he'd gotten this over with he'd activate the blasted droid and make it do another scan. Ren would no doubt rile him up as he normally did and his annoyance hormone levels would blow off the scale and they could be done with this nonsense.

Of course Ren was late, but that was no surprise. The man would be late to his own funeral, Hux was sure. Thirteen minutes after the appointed time Hux's door alert pinged.

"Enter," he called out.

Ren took three steps into Hux's quarters and stopped. His body language gave Hux nothing as his helmet turned back and forth, examining his surroundings. Hux had closed the door to his bedroom, so the only thing visible was this, the outer room.

"Of all the appointments you've ignored over the years, of course this is the one you choose to acknowledge." Gesturing with his glass, Hux flopped onto the sofa. "Well, just don't stand there."

"Hux." The helmet cocked to one side. "Are you ... drunk?"

"Of course not." It was probably a good thing Ren didn't challenge him on this, he realized when he nearly spilled on himself. Maybe he'd had just a little too much already. Ren regarded him for a moment before crossing the room and settling himself in the padded chair Hux had placed to his right. This was the first time he'd used his sitting room for entertaining in all the years of his command, he realized, as he poured a splash of brandy into a tumbler for his unwelcome guest. 

Ren made no move to take the glass, sitting ramrod straight on the edge of the chair. A part of Hux approved of his military stance, while another took offense that the man couldn't make himself relax in what was obviously a social setting. He'd managed to do it after all, hadn't he? If he could put aside his academy training for a few hours then Ren, who wouldn't know discipline if it hit him upside the head, should be able to do the same.

Finally, Ren broke the silence.

"I have to admit this invitation was ... unexpected." 

"Well, it wasn't my idea. But you're here, so we might as well get on with it." 

"What do you mean, it wasn't your idea?"

"My Baymax unit got this idea in its chips that I needed to socialize more." Pointing towards the case, which he'd managed to shove mostly into a corner, he sloshed some of the amber liquid over his hand, stopping himself just short of licking his skin clean. Alright, yes, he'd definitely overindulged. 

Peering at his glass, he tried to remember. This was only his second glass, wasn't it? Or was it a third? He'd kept topping the brandy off bit by bit, so he couldn't really say for certain. Whatever glass this was, he'd overfilled it. He'd have to take it slow from here on out. Wouldn't want to give the impression that he wasn't in full control of his faculties. Not before Ren, of all people. Ren, who hadn't moved, he realized, or said anything while he'd been trying to figure out how not-drunk he was. Ren, whose hands had begun to clench and unclench in a worrying fashion. 

Had he brought his lightsaber with him? Hux tried to look without seeming like he was looking, but he couldn't tell. It would definitely not do his whatever levels any good if Ren destroyed his quarters, but if he managed to take that damned droid out in the process Hux wouldn't scold him too harshly this time.

He took another sip, careful to just moisten his lips. Ren's voice modulator amplified his breathing, echoing through the room. Was it louder than when he'd come in, or was Hux just noticing it more now?

"So, this invitation is ...."

When Ren trailed off, Hux finished his sentence.

"A prescription of sorts, I guess you'd say. That damned droid thinks I need more interaction with my _peers_. And since you're the only one equal in rank on board it took it upon itself to send out that invitation. Doesn't ever listen to a word I say." That had come out with more of a sneer than he'd intended.

"Ah. I see."

Expecting something a bit longer in response, Hux ended up taking another sip to fill the awkward silence. This reminded him that Ren hadn't touched his glass yet.

"Are you going to take that damned helmet off? We are supposed to be drinking, after all."

He didn't think Ren actually would after the way he'd been acting, but after a noticeable hesitation he lifted his hands, thumbing the latches that held it in place.

Normally Ren's thoughts were writ large across his face but tonight Hux couldn't put a name to a single one of the emotions that flitted across his face.

"There, that's better," he said as Ren took his first sip.

"Corellian brandy." Another flicker of expression flashed by, too quick for Hux to identify, as Hux raised his glass in recognition of Ren's palate.

"One of my few indulgences. I'm surprised you're familiar with it. It's hard to come by out here."

"My missions for the Supreme Leader take me to many places outside the Outer Rim."

Missions for which Ren requisitioned troops and supplies without consulting him, more often than not. Annoyed again, Hux covered his expression by taking another gulp of brandy. Oh, wait, he was supposed to be rationing himself. Stars, but this was painful. 

Out of the blue, Ren laughed, a short outburst that startled Hux. Swallowing half his brandy in one gulp, he set the glass back on the table.

"We have had a drink together, so you can inform your nanny bot that its prescription has been filled. I'll leave you to your evening."

Rising, he clicked his heels together with military precision. Tucking his helmet under his arm, he stomped out of Hux's quarters as Hux stared after him, jaw working in outrage over his parting shot. Nanny bot? How dare he. The door closed before he could come up with a retort. Dammit, he really had overindulged. 

Ren hadn't finished his brandy, either. How rude. Hux poured the remained into his own tumblr. Waste not.

Towards the bottom of this last glass, it occurred to him that Ren had sounded almost hurt, and that the insult might have been a ruse to cover it up. But, no, that must have been Hux's imagination. Silly thought. That's what came of too much brandy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it count as a slow burn if one of the characters in the pairing don't even show up until the 6th chapter?


	7. Chapter 7

Having neglected to take any hangover prevention before he started drinking, Hux woke with breath worse than a ten-day dead bantha and a twin ion engine misfiring inside his skull. In between moans, he managed to down a handful of anti-nausea and analgesic capsules. If he activated Baymax, the droid would come up with something better, but then he'd have to relive the events of the previous evening and he wasn't quite up to that yet. Because to top off his misery he was forced to admit to himself that he needed to search Ren out and deliver an apology. He'd been the worst of hosts. Even though the invitation hadn't been his, that was no excuse for his behavior.

The transparisteel of his closet door provided some relief while he waited for the medications to kick in, cool against his forehead. It took him longer than usual to get dressed but by the time he'd fastened the last clasp the pounding in his head had quieted to a dull thud and he found he could bend over to put his boots on without wanting to hurl. Hooray for First Order medicine.

Forcing himself through his duties, he waited for Ren to appear, but no hulking shadow lurked in any of the knight's usual corners. When the shift passed without any sightings, a review of logs from the evening before revealed that Ren had taken his shuttle to parts unknown, piloting himself. From the departure time, it seemed he'd gone straight from Hux's quarters to the shuttle bay. He hadn't logged a flight plan or a mission statement or noted any indication of the length of his trip. That made this trip no different from any of his others, but because for once Hux actually wanted the man's presence he found it even more vexing than normal. And yes, he could admit in the privacy of his thoughts, that he worried a bit. He couldn’t say they’d had an easy relationship, with how they’d both vied for the Supreme Leader's favor during their co-commandership, but Hux had never been outright rude to him before, no matter how pressed he'd felt. 

His absence continued throughout the week, much to Hux's annoyance. Inconvenient as always, blast the man. It took effort not to take his mood out on his subordinates, so much so that he ended up overcompensating. After the third time he'd thanked someone in the space of an hour, he removed himself to his office, citing reports in need of review.

When he scanned his schedule for the next few days, he found, to his horror, that a slot had been set aside for "drinks with Kylo Ren" a few nights ahead, on the same day and time as their previous horrid attempt. Scrolling ahead, he discovered it had been added as a recurring event. As with all of Baymax's meddling, he couldn't remove or alter the settings, and he couldn't decline the meeting as it showed that he'd created the blasted thing. This week's slot remained highlighted in blue, and lacked the discreet check mark that would show Ren had opened it. At least it hadn't been rejected, leaving Hux with the faint hope that Ren might make an appearance, however brief, and he'd be able to deliver his damned apology and then they could be done with this foolishness. 

When the appointed time rolled around, Hux was shocked when Ren appeared at his door. He'd received no notification that Ren had returned to the Finalizer. He'd determine whose head needed to roll for that first thing in the morning.

Before he could say anything, Kylo pushed past him, pulling his helmet off

"Since I can neither delete nor decline your _invitation_ , General," he snarled as he opened up Hux's liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle at random and pulling out the stopper. "To your health." He took a healthy swig straight from the bottle, then let it drop. As Hux stared in shock, completely at a loss for words, Ren bowed to him. "Well, this has been pleasant. Good evening." Stepping over the shattered glass, he pushed past Hux again, helmet back in place before he hit the corridor.

Hux found his voice just after the doors closed.

"Now see here! The nerve!"

He was out the door before he thought about it, chasing after Ren down the corridors, hatless and with his jacket undone for all to see. 

"Ren!"

Not breaking his stride, Ren continued to stomp away, forcing Hux to hurry after him. Troopers turned and scattered, ducking into any and every available side corridor to get out of their way. By the time Hux caught up with him there wasn't another person to be seen.

"Dammit, Ren, will you please stop?"

Unprepared for Ren to actually cooperate, he nearly plowed into him when Ren complied. 

"You stopped!"

"I've never heard you say please before.”

Oh. Awkward. 

"You forgot your hat."

Was awkwarder a word? His first impulse was to go on the offensive, but he bit down on it. He'd already been offensive enough, and that's why he was here now. 

"I wanted to apologize to you for my behavior last week. I would have sent you a message, but I felt you deserved something more personal."

"You ... wanted to apologize." Ren's helmet distorted most emotional tones in his voice, but skepticism carried through loud and clear. 

He almost snapped back in response, catching himself in time.

"Yes, apologize. I should not have taken out my displeasure at being coerced by my medical droid into doing what I would not, under other circumstances, find unpleasant, on you."

Maybe that sentence had been a bit too stilted.

"I would, in fact, not be averse to trying again."

That wasn't much better. Why was he doing so poorly at this? And why wasn't Ren saying anything? 

"Ren?"

Still nothing.

"Dammit, would you say something?"

Shaking his helmet, Ren stomped off without replying, leaving Hux standing in the middle of the corridor seething at his retreating back.

"Impossible man."

It wasn't until the next morning that Hux realized the weekly "drinks" appointment for the following week had changed to green.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little mention of blood in this chapter. I didn't tag for it, as it's minor, but if you think I need to let me know?

"You are nervous about tonight's assignation with Kylo Ren General."

"Please don't use that word. And no, I am not nervous."

"You are blinking at a rate three times your normal speed, your heartbeat is accelerated and you are repeatedly smoothing your hair back from your forehead. These are all signs of nervousness or stress."

"I just want this evening to go smoothly. The last time was such a disaster."

Maybe he should put some product in his hair. He'd been trying for a relaxed aesthetic, but the brush of his bangs against his skin kept distracting him. He wouldn't be so (he refused to use the word "nervous") unsettled if he'd seen Ren at all since the week before but the man had disappeared again, leaving the ship just after they'd last spoken and not returning again until a few hours ago.

"Do you require an analgesic for your hematoma?" Baymax had activated after Hux had banged his shin against the corner of the low table he'd repositioned in his receiving room, forgetting its new position while he paced.

"You are going to have a good a good evening, General. Have a lollipop."

"Your attempts at reassurance are unnecessary. I am fine." The label read "pink velvet," whatever that was. Glancing at the chrono, he gasped. "He'll be here any minute." Glancing about, he didn't see anything out of place. Oh, except for one large white squishy thing.

"Baymax, I am satisfied with my care."

The case sealed around the droid just as his door chimed. Taking a deep breath, Hux called out "Enter!"

Helmetless and hunched over, Ren took three steps into Hux's quarters and stopped. Head cocked, he stared.

"Is that a lollipop?"

Hux had forgotten he still held it and shoved it into a pocket, flushing. Too late. Ren had spotted the crate in the corner of the room, and made the appropriate and embarrassing correlation.

"Your Baymax unit gives you sweets? Mine just scolded."

"Is that why mine came with a warning to never activate it in your presence?" 

That came out sharper than he intended, and he had a moment to worry whether he'd started them off on the wrong foot again. But then, wonder of wonders, Ren laughed, and now it was Hux's turn to stare. He'd never seen a smile on his co-commander's face before. It was .... He stopped that train of thought before it led someplace awkward.

"Would you care to sit?"

"Oh, yes. And here." Ren produced a bottle from underneath his robes. "To replace the one I broke."

Unexpected, and thoughtful. Hux bowed slightly as he took it. It needed a firm grip, as it proved to be heavier than it appeared. When he tried to read the label, he found it faded and cracked, and he could see dust still caked around the edges.

"What is this?"

"Bespin Port. Approximately 75 years old, I believe."

He came close to asking how Ren had come into possession of such a relic, but decided he didn’t want to know. The thought that Ren’s absence for the past week might have been due to his procurement of such a rare treasure was dismissed as quickly as it came.

"Come, sit." Gesturing to one of the padded chairs, he set the bottle on the table he'd positioned so carefully and opened his liquor cabinet. Pushing aside the plain glasses, he pulled a wooden box out from the back of the shelf. Such a fine liquor deserved the proper service. Three of the six cut crystal tumblers still survived of the set he'd bought when he earned his first command. The box kept them free of dust, but he wiped them out with a towel anyways.

A wax coating covered the cork, crumbling at the first touch of a cutter. The cork slid out in one piece, the end almost black, and a heady aroma wafted through the room. He took a moment to appreciate the bouquet before pouring them each two fingers’ worth.

So caught up in trying to analyze the complex flood of emotions flooded across Ren’s face at his first sip, Hux almost forgot to take a drink himself. When he did, a moan of pleasure escaped him, and he clapped his free hand to his mouth in embarrassment.

Ren laughed again. For the second time that evening, actual chuckles emanated from his mouth. Hux gaped in amazement as the corners of Ren’s eyes scrunched up and one corner of his mouth rode up higher than the other. Catching Hux’s stare, Ren raised his glass in salute, taking another sip.

“Wherever did you get this?”

“You’re better off not knowing.”

Hux didn’t mean to get drunk again. It’s not that they rushed through the port, not at all. You didn’t treat such a venerable potable with anything less than the utmost respect. But after the initial awkwardness, Ren proved to be a charming conversationalist. It’s amazing how well they could get on when they weren’t butting heads over procedure and regulations. So after the glasses had emptied themselves, he set the port aside in favor of his favorite whiskey, and that glass emptied itself too. Ren refilled their glasses this time, and in the middle of an anecdote about an incident from his academy days, Hux missed the table when he went to set the tumblr down. He tried to catch it and overcompensated, smashing the glass against the edge, managing to hit it just right that the glass shattered.

“Sorry about that! Oh dear.” A shard of crystal had embedded itself in his palm.

“Ouch,” Ren said in sympathy. Oh no.

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'."

“Don’t worry, General. I have my destructive tendencies under control.”

“You have a laceration of the abductor pollicis brevis. The cause of the laceration is still present. We should relocate to your refresher before removing the foreign object so the wound can be irrigated before treatment.”

Between stressing over ruining yet another evening and worrying about having accidentally activated Baymax in Ren's presence, despite the instructions not to, he somehow found himself standing over his sink with Ren behind him, cradling his injured hand between Ren’s two giant paws. Ren steadied Hux’s hand with surprising gentleness as a tweezer extended from Baymax’s fluffy finger. He barely noticed the sting of the antiseptic spray. A bacta gel and bandage followed, Ren’s arms still wrapped around him. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he spent a few moments wondering where his hat had ended up before remembering he hadn’t been wearing it. 

“Thank you, Baymax. We’re satisfied with your care.” Apparently anyone could say the deactivation phrase. That was handy. Thank goodness Baymax didn’t offer him another lollipop before waddling back to his crate. The cleaning droid had already begun putting his sitting room to rights, following along the trail of blood to the shattered glass and spilled whiskey. Hux sighed.

“I’ve managed to make a mess of this again, haven’t I?”

“It could have been worse.”

Remembering their last drink, Hux snorted. “Yes, I guess it could have been. Perhaps next time we can avoid broken glass altogether.”

“Until next time, then?”

“Until next time.”


	9. Chapter 9

Somehow weeks turned into months. Baymax's crate disappeared out of his quarters one day during his on shift. Inquiries to medical stated that the droid had declared itself satisfied with his progress and had scheduled a follow-up, which had been entered in his calendar. Finding himself hurt that the droid hadn't told him this itself, he wallowed for a few days, then scolded himself for such a gross display of sentimentality. During this short time, he discovered he now had the ability to delete the droid's entries from his schedule, but he left one particular recurring event alone.

Weekly drinks with Ren continued, as long as the both of them were present on the Finalizer. Ren even surprised him once, showing up during an inspection tour, bottle and glasses in hand. That led to another round of complicated feelings that he buried as soon as they registered.

And then Kylo received new orders from the Supreme Leader. Something about a map. He disappeared for almost three weeks, and a few weeks after that disappeared for a whole month. Every time the meeting reminder showed up as blue in his calendar, Hux waited until an hour past the scheduled time before giving up hope. 

The first time it showed up red, he killed a bottle by himself and took a sick day afterwards. The next week, he changed his status to “not available” a mere two hours before the scheduled time, out of spite. Ren didn’t return to the Finalizer for almost two weeks after that, so his little gesture turned out to be completely unnecessary, but he still waffled between righteous outrage and soul crushing guilt over it.

Six months after the crate had been whisked away, it turned up back in Hux’s quarters. He ignored it until the alerts began, and continued to ignore it until he’d reached a healthy (in his estimation) state of inebriation.

Finally, he gave in.

“Damn you and your damned ‘ow’.”

“Hello. I am Baymax, your personal….”

“Yes, I bloody well know who you are,” Hux interjected, sloshing whiskey over his gloves as he whirled on the droid.

Baymax studied him, head cocked to one side.

“You are intoxicated.”

“Yes, bloody brilliant observation there. I’d have never known if you hadn’t told me.”

“My scans indicate you have ...”

“Been drinking more than normal, yes. And it’s all your fault!”

“I have never prescribed alcohol in any form as a nutritional supplement to your diet.”

“Oh, really? What about ‘Drinks with Kylo Ren’?”

“That was merely a societal convention to encourage you to regularly interact with your only peer onboard this vessel.”

“Except he’s not on the vessel. Hasn’t been for weeks now.” Oh for stars’ sakes, he was not going to cry.

"My sensors indicate that you are becoming depressed. Do you need a hug?"

He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t.

“Yes, dammit.”

“There, there.” One sob did escape him as the droid vibrated around him, sausage fingers patting his hair.

The exchange left him comforted until Ren’s return. When the report that his shuttle had docked, Hux had to refrain from bouncing in excitement in his station on the command deck. Ren had come back just in time for their weekly appointment. And then he received the message alert. 

“Declined?” he muttered in disbelief. 

Ren’s tracker put him in his quarters. He came within a hair’s breadth of charging off to demand an explanation, but stopped himself and turned back to pace the length of the upper deck again. Ren must have a good reason. He wouldn’t have broken their plans otherwise.

He spent the night waiting nevertheless, two glasses and the bottle Ren had gifted him sitting on the table next to him, pretending to thumb through an approved work of fiction on his datapad until he caught himself dozing on the sofa.

“He really isn’t coming,” he said to no one in particular after the third time he’d jolted back awake.

Ren never made an appearance, staying in his quarters for the next three days, until Hux received a notification that he’d ordered a change to the Finalizer’s flight plan. 

“Jakku? Why would he take us to that dirtball?”

“Unknown, sir. He stated his orders come directly from the Supreme Leader.”

He couldn't contradict that. And so the Finalizer dropped out of hyperspace over a glaring yellow speck in backwater space.

Ren took three troop transports with him, and returned with only a few casualties, and a bonus.

“We’ve diverted an entire star destroyer to chase down a loony old priest, who might have a fragment of information leading to the location of another old man. How wonderful.” No one dared respond to his muttering, and good for them. All this nonsense was a distraction. Ren, this map, the droid. He didn’t have time to deal with this. He’d thrown himself into his work over the last few months and his reward awaited. Starkiller was, by all reports, operational, and he should be there, instead of orbiting this desolate rock.

“Ships are en route back to the Finalizer, General. They have a prisoner.”

“Wonderful. See that an interrogation chamber is prepared for his arrival.”

Hopefully this would soon mean an end to all this nonsense, and they could resume their routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the break in updating - I've been working on fics for two different bangs, and they took over my life. I'm hoping to wrap this up soon, with another ~2-3 chapters.


	10. Chapter 10

How had it all come crashing down so quickly? The snow crunched under his feet, stained black in an alarmingly large circle around where Ren lay. It took four troopers to get him onto the sled, between his dead weight and the shaking of the planet beneath their feet. Their shuttle docked back on the _Finalizer_ seconds before the ship made the jump to lightspeed. He thought they'd made it to safety, but no such luck. His feet had barely hit the deck when the ship lurched, flinging them to the floor. Gravity deserted them for a moment, then hit them from the side before settling back to normal, and a moment later alarm klaxons began to blare throughout the landing bay.

"Report," he snapped into his comm as he checked Ren. The gravsled supporting his stretcher hadn’t been affected by the ship’s motions and Ren hadn't stirred from his unconscious state.

"It's Starkiller, sir. The power surge from the reactors, it's knocked us out of hyperspace. Engines are offline. Working on repairs now. I should have an estimate to you in short order."

"Dammit." Gesturing to the troops, he snapped out orders. "Get him to medbay, then report to your stations for orders." Ren remained unconscious, and he saw blood had pooled beneath the stretcher when they lifted him. "Watch your step. Don't slip. You'll jostle him." As if it mattered. Ludicrous.

Status reports scrolled across the screen of his datapad faster than he could keep up, his crew putting forth a constant stream of updates as systems righted themselves and repairs proceeded. It came to him, after the first hour of pacing, that he had nothing to do. He'd created a well-oiled machine, and it ground on without his input.

He'd laid in a bottle of excellent champagne to celebrate Starkiller's completion months ago, when he thought he would have someone to share it with. Not having had anyone to drink with these last few weeks, well, months really, he'd left it in his quarters instead of bringing it down to the base with him. Good thing, that, as otherwise it'd be stardust, along with his life's work.

The cork got away from him, shooting off across the room. He didn't bother chasing it. Didn't bother with a glass either. The bubbles went up his nose when he took the first swig and he choked, nearly dropping the bottle.

"And wouldn't that have been the perfect capper for the day?" he muttered.

The second swallow went down better, and he settled in on the sofa with his datapad, opening reports at random as they popped up. One from the senior medical officer came flagged for his immediate attention.

_Commander Ren's wounds required the use of a bacta tank. Full recovery is expected within a week's time. Minimal scarring is expected after treatment._

"I'm sure he'll be pleased."

Following some impulse he couldn't explain, he found himself rising, wrapping his coat around his shoulders. He checked in the mirror, and yes, the drape of the jacket along his side the shape of bottle if he held it by the neck.

He passed only a few scurrying troopers on his way to the medical division, most of the crew still in place at their emergency posts.

"General! I didn't realize you'd been injured. Please ...."

"Where's Ren?" He cut the tech off. She gulped and gestured. His rank afforded Ren privacy, a tank in a curtained alcove. “See that no one disturbs us,” he ordered, and she nodded, fleeing as he drew the curtain shut.

There wasn’t anything to sit on, so he settled on the floor, cross-legged, in front of Ren’s tank.

“Got used to not drinking alone,” he said to Ren’s unconscious body. “Here’s to the end of the Republic!” Taking another pull from the bottle, he scowled at the tank. “Shitty of you to go off like that, you know. No explanation. Rude.” He didn’t notice the flicker of Ren’s eyes, too busy staring as he held the bottle up to the light. “Getting drunk because of you again, too. Shouldn’t be drinking this stuff so fast. It was bloody expensive. Like that port you brought me, most likely.” The port he hadn’t touched in months, he remembered. He’d saved it, only drunk it when Ren joined him. It had seemed only right. “Sentimental nonsense,” he muttered to himself. Ren’s eyes shot closed an instant before he looked up.

“Once we get the ship shipshape we’ll be off to deliver you to Snoke. The _Finalizer_ delivery service! And then I get to try to put all the pieces back together again. All … by ... myself.” He punctuated each word with another swallow. “While you fart around with your Force nonsense.” Had he eaten anything today? He couldn’t remember now. He usually didn’t before speeches, but he’d been trying to get better. Thanks to Baymax. Baymax. This was all that droid’s fault, somehow, him sitting here on the floor, drunk, talking to his unconscious co-commander’s bacta tank.

“Oh, where are my manners? Do you want some?” Upending the bottle, he let the remainder spill on the floor. “There you go. Rude not to offer you any earlier.” Now he had to move, unless he wanted to get his coat wet. He didn’t bother getting up, just scooted over a few feet. Ren’s head tracked his progress, then snapped back into place again before Hux noticed.

“All because I missed my checkup.” His feet were starting to fall asleep so he shifted. He nearly fell over as he brought his knees up and a giggle escaped before he could reel it in. Glancing around to see if anyone had heard, he remembered they were alone. “Good thing, yes? Privacy. One of the privileges of rank.” Forgetting there was nothing left, he tried to take another drink, shooting the bottle a betrayed look when nothing came out. Lifting it, he stared down the neck before letting it fall, dangling between his legs as he rested his arms on his knees.

“All because of an ‘ow’.”


	11. Chapter 11

The last thing Hux needed to deal with right now was the alert informing him that Ren had “released himself from medical care” three days early by exploding his bacta tank and storming out of medbay, dripping slime and clad only in a pair of modesty briefs. He spent an hour quashing illicit holo clips and tracking down who’d hacked into the security feeds, time that could have been better spent in a myriad of other ways. 

Despite the destruction of Starkiller, the First Order had come out ahead, with the majority of their fleet and the entirety of their ruling body still intact. The New Republic’s command had been decimated. Now only remnants of their forces remained, scurrying from one crisis to the next with no rhyme or reason to their movements, augmented by the pittance the Resistance could throw their way. This was the culmination of years of work. This was the time to consolidate their efforts and bring the Republic to heel. And yet the Supreme Leader still directed resources towards the eradication of one man and removed the First Order’s most powerful warrior from the field.

Ren stomped his way across the shuttle bay. He hadn’t replaced the helmet lost in Starkiller’s depths, and Hux’s eyes were drawn to the scar that now bisected his face, still raw and angry. It wouldn’t be there if he’d finished off his week in the tank, and the wound in his side might reopen still. 

“You didn’t need to see me off, General. I’m sure you have many weightier issues that you should be attending.”

So much for whatever camaraderie Hux thought they’d established. Why was he wasting any energy worrying about this ingrate? Several retorts popped to mind, each more scathing than the last. None of them escaped his lips. 

“Good luck with your training. Give my regards to the Supreme Leader.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Ren called after him as he walked away, but he ignored him, not turning until after he heard the distinctive roar of Ren’s customized TIE engines as he tore out of the bay. “Good luck with your training,” he mocked himself in singsong tones. “Pitiful.”

Enough of this. He had a galaxy to seize.

When he returned to his quarters that evening, a familiar red crate sat in the middle of his receiving room. Frowning, he checked his datapad. No, he hadn’t gotten any alerts from medical. Circling, the crate, he found no issuance tag this time.

Pinging medical got him no answers.

“I’m sorry sir. The order came through this morning, but I can’t access who originated the unit’s activation. It says I don’t have clearance.”

“Forward the order to me, then.”

“Yes, sir. Right away sir!”

He could hear the tech’s sigh of relief as he cut the connection. Reviewing the order, he found he couldn’t access the authorization either. He hated mysteries.

“Well, then. Let’s see if I can get to the bottom of this. Ow.”

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'. It is good to see you again, General."

Hux blinked at the change in routine. “It is?” he couldn’t help but asking.

“Yes. And I understand congratulations are in order?”

“I guess so?” Getting more confused by the minute, Hux realized he’d gotten distracted. “Baymax, why are you here? I thought you would only be conducting routine physicals from now on.”

“You are about to begin spearheading the First Order’s rise to supremacy in the galaxy. This will lead to long hours and additional stresses placed on you, and I’ve been ordered to see that you remain in the best possible health in order to assure the First Order’s success.” 

“Who issued this order?” 

“Kylo Ren.”

“You’re joking.” Incredulous, Hux stared at the droid, all the while wondering if he’d been finally pushed to the breaking point and had started to hallucinate. No, Baymax would notice that immediately. He slid a hand into his pocket and pinched himself on the thigh surreptitiously all the same.

“Although I am programmed to simulate humor, I am not accessing that programming at this time, General.”

“But … he stopped showing up for drinks. He hasn’t talked to me in weeks. Why would he do this?”

“His motivations were not included in my orders.” Baymax shrugged. 

“Of course not. Brilliant. Well, then. Have you turned off my datapad already?” The pad pinged at just that moment, surprising him, as it wasn’t an urgent alert.

“As this technically counts as a state of emergency, I will not regulate your actions, merely assist in small ways to help you maintain as optimum a level of performance and efficiency as possible.”

“Oh, alright then. Get on with it.” There had to be some ulterior motive behind this all, and he’d work to unravel it, somehow. In between all the other more important tasks ahead of him, of course he’d find the time. Dammit. Kylo’d left the ship and he was still as distracting as ever.

“Scanning now.”

When Baymax read back his litany of readings, Hux found himself nodding and smiling at the droid’s words. 

As he spoke the deactivation sequence, he couldn’t resist adding his own sentiment.

“And it’s good to see you again too.”

It really was. And not just because of the promise of more lollipops.


	12. Chapter 12

“Kylo Ren’s TIE has requested permission to dock, General.”

It took Hux several seconds to process this information. Barely three days had passed since Snoke had last contacted him, demanding a progress report on a mission that was still in the planning stages, and he’d made no reference to Ren’s status or impending return. And Ren had only been gone for a little over a month. Could he have finished his training, whatever that entailed, so quickly?

Maybe it was a trick. They’d stymied several infiltration attempts by the Resistance recently.

“Are you sure it’s him?” 

“The codes check out sir. They’re recent, from only a few days ago.”

“Order ten squads to report to the shuttle bay before you authorize his landing. Full kit, heavy ordinance.” A little healthy paranoia made for a strong organization.

He dissuaded himself from rushing down to oversee the docking. He still hadn’t reconciled Ren’s dismissive comment at his departure with his activation of the Baymax unit on Hux’s behalf. Let Ren come to him and explain himself. He had deadlines to meet.

The confirmation that it was indeed Ren on his shuttle, and that he’d arrived alone, came in due course. He acknowledged the report and authorized the docking and proceeded to go about his business, pretending that he wasn’t waiting for Ren to show up on deck any moment now.

It took twenty three minutes to travel between the command deck and the port shuttle bay at a normal pace. The minutes ticked past, but no Ren. He spent the rest of his shift tensing at every stray noise, getting more and more annoyed as the hours ticked by and no knight appeared.

The reason for this became apparent the minute before he walked into his quarters. A scheduling alert sounded from his pad and he froze as he read the notification.  _ Drinks with Kylo Ren  _ had just turned green.   


He entered to find Ren sitting on his sofa, bold as brass, glass in hand and Millicent curled up on the arm of the sofa next to him.

“General. ”

“Ren. I must say, this is unexpected. To what do we owe the honor of your presence? Does the Supreme Leader have a new mission for you? Are we to be diverted to yet another backwater Outer Rim hellhole?” 

“No.”

Ren seemed nervous, fidgeting with his glass. He started to speak, hesitated, and took a drink, as if to bolster his courage. Rising, he began to pace.

“I’ve been … well … you know.”

“I do not know, in fact.”

“There were things I didn’t ... I couldn’t … Dammit, I had this all planned out.” 

Watching Millicent watch Ren stride from one end of the room to the other was starting to make him dizzy.

“He said attachments were a weakness, strengthening the pull of the Light. That I needed to hold myself apart to grow stronger.” The words came out in a rush.

It took Hux a few moments to process what he’d said, distracted by Ren’s stare, those huge eyes boring into him. “He? You mean the Supreme Leader?”

“I’ve come to realize that he was wrong this, and about so many other things.” 

“What things?”  _ What attachments? _ , was what he really wanted to ask.

“If it weren’t for Snoke’s obsession with Skywalker, the chain of events that led to the destruction of Starkiller would never have been put in motion. The scavenger girl would have remained on Jakku, a nobody, unaware of her potential. FN-2187 might still have defected at some point, or might have been flagged for further reconditioning, but he would not have met Poe Dameron, as we would never have brought the pilot on board. The Resistance would have been deprived of his knowledge, and would have been destroyed as well, along with the last piece of the map leading to Skywalker. Because of Snoke’s insistence on the importance of one broken old man, the First Order lost its most powerful asset, thereby delaying our victory.”

It was almost if Ren had scooped the words straight out of Hux’s own brain. Could this be some kind of test? If he agreed, seemed to give credence to Ren’s statement, would that be his death sentence? Or had Ren also harbored such thoughts, separate from his own, and was only now opening up, granting Hux his trust? 

“And so you left your training? What do you hope to accomplish by that?” Hux asked, delaying any need to agree with or counter Ren’s statements. And maybe by getting Ren talking again, he might get back to that ‘attachments’ thing. 

“I didn’t leave my training.”

Or not. Blast it. 

“I ended it.”

“Ended it? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Snoke is dead.”

“I think I need to sit down.” 

A chair slid across the floor, hitting the back of his legs just as his knees gave out from shock.

“Hux? Are you okay? Kriff, I didn’t think you could get any paler. Here, put your head down. Where’s that damn droid?”

“That’s hardly necessary.” Tucking his head between his knees did help with the dizziness. That didn’t stop Ren. 

“How do you activate it again?”

“Oh, for kriff’s sake, Ren, I’ll be fine.”

“Ouch? Ow? Is that it? Oh, good.”

At the familiar hissing noise, Millicent hopped off the sofa, twining around Baymax’s legs as it stepped out of its crate.

"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said 'ow'.”

“It’s Hux. He’s having some kind of attack. You’re supposed to be taking care of him!”

“Don’t yell at my droid. I’m fine. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Scanning now…. I am registering a slight drop in blood pressure, but it is equalizing. Blood sugar reads normal. There are no signs of anemia or irregularities in the function of the heart, and no foreign substances in the general’s bloodstream.”

“See, I told you I’m fine.”

“I recommend a period of relaxation, preferably lying down, until the dizziness passes.”

“Lying down. Alright. Here,”

Hux squawked in outrage as Kylo slid one arm under his legs and the other around his waist. He grabbed Kylo’s cowl for support when Kylo stood, which put their faces entirely too close together. “This is completely unnecessary,” he sputtered, all too aware that Baymax could start spouting off about increased heart rate or endorphin rushes any second now.

“Shush, you.”

“Oh, no. You did not just tell me to shush!” He struggled in Kylo’s arms, trying to get his feet on the ground. “Unnecessary and undignified. I can walk.”

He’d never know what Kylo tried to say in response, because Millicent chose that moment to try to rub up against Kylo’s leg. So focused on Hux, Kylo hadn’t noticed the cat’s approach, and his giant foot landed squarely on her paw. With an unholy screech, she bolted between his legs and he pitched forward, landing on top of Hux on the sofa. His forehead connected with Hux’s lip and Hux tasted blood.

“You’re bleeding!” 

“Yes, I had noticed that, thank ….”

Kylo cupped Hux’s cheek in his hand, wiping the blood away with his thumb, and the words died in Hux’s throat. 

“I have detected a mild contusion on Kylo Ren’s forehead. Do you require treatment?”

“I’m fine.” Kylo’s eyes didn’t leave Hux’s face, flickering up from his lips, then back down again.

“My scan also shows a minor abrasion of your upper lip, General. Do you require treatment?”

“I think I know what will make it feel better. Thank you, Baymax.”

With his hands still wrapped in Kylo’s cowl, it took the barest of efforts to draw him in. Kylo didn’t resist, although Hux did get a flash of the whites of his eyes before their lips met. The cut on his lip stung, and they bumped noses twice before they got the angle right, and he knew his mouth must taste like stale caf but it didn’t matter. It was perfect.

“Now I feel dizzy,” Kylo murmured when they broke apart.

“Maybe you should lie down?”

“I already am. Kind of.” He wasn’t really. He lay sprawled half on, half off the sofa, still draped over Hux. With a little rearrangement he tucked in next to Hux, which involved recalculating the optimum angles for further kissing, but they figured it out.

“I think I detect elevated hormone levels,” Kylo quipped, and Hux stiffened next to him. Kriff. He’d forgotten about Baymax. But the droid was nowhere to be seen. The crate sat closed in the corner.

“It can turn itself off. It’s been lying to me the entire time.”

“Um, Hux.”

“What?”

Following Kylo’s pointing finger, Hux couldn’t help but laugh. On the end table next to the sofa, two lollipops sat, stems crossed.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Kylo Ren, mighty Force user, leader of the knights of Ren, fearless killer and terror of the galaxy, drooled in his sleep. They’d dozed off together at some point, and Hux had woken up with a damp shoulder and a stiff back. His attempts to untangle himself from the lanky knight met with no success, Kylo’s arms tightening around him as he tried to slide off the sofa.

“Kylo, we need to get up.”

For an instant it looked like Kylo would cooperate, but his shifting only resulted with one of his massive legs wrapped around Hux’s waist.

“Really?”

“Mm hmm.”

Trapped as he was, he couldn’t see the chrono and his internal clock failed him.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re taking the day off.”

Opening his mouth to protest, Hux found his words stifled as Kylo pulled him more firmly into his chest.

“I think you deserve a bit of a break. You’ll run yourself ragged as soon word gets out about your new promotion.”

“Pwomotion?” he mumbled into Kylo’s cowl.

“Well, I have created an opening. And you are the most suited to take command.”

“Wha?”  

“Supreme Leader Hux. I like the sound of that. Don’t you?”

At these words, he managed to summon enough strength to push himself free.  

“What?!?” he repeated, the only word he seemed to be able to mutter. His mouth opened and closed – he could feel it doing so - and his brain raced in circles, multiple responses hovering at the tip of his tongue, but the connection between the two seemed to have short circuited. His ability to form complete sentences must still be smothered in Kylo’s arms.

“And you can’t deny you’ve thought of it.”

He could, but he’d be lying. His thoughts had run more towards Emperor, but that could still happen.

“Do you think they’ll follow me?” Ah, there his words were.

“Aren’t they already?”

True, he had taken an active hand in directing the entire fleet these last few months, and most of their recent successions had come about thanks to his stratagems. And with Kylo and his knights behind him, his few naysayers could be cowed into submission or dealt with. Rewinding the conversation to Ren’s first words, he chuckled.

“‘Created an opening?’ Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

“Well, ‘assassinated’ sounds so crude. We are aiming for a more civilized galaxy.”

“We are indeed.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  


Rising from his chair, Hux’s hip spasmed and he stumbled, banging into the corner of the table.

“Hux, are you okay? You’re in pain. Ow!”

“Kylo, no, I’m fine.” But it was too late.

"Hello. I am Baymax, His Imperial Majesty’s personal healthcare companion. I have been assigned to see to your majesty’s medical needs. I was alerted to your need for medical attention when your majesty said 'ow'."

“It’s nothing, Baymax. And would you please, for the thousandth time, drop the ‘your majesties’?”

“That would not be proper, your majesty.”

“Did I ever space whoever it was who thought a medical droid needed a protocol chip?”

“No, dearest, I think you just assigned them to an outer rim mining colony.”

Baymax ignored their bickering with the ease of decades of practice. “Commencing scan. …. Scan complete. I am registering a contusion on your left hip, as well as increased inflammation in your joints. You have not been taking your supplements.”

“They taste horrible and upset my stomach,” Hux groused, scowling.

“But they make your arthritis better, Hux, and you still haven’t tried that tea for your stomach.” Kylo’s hand covered his where he braced himself against the table.

“It smells worse than the supplements taste.” He couldn’t help but smile, though, at their clasped hands, both equally wrinkled and spotted with age. “There’s no cure for growing old, Kylo. Or at least, none worth the price.” Kylo had found techniques, buried holocrons in ancient temples, but after studying them he’d hidden them back away, both in agreement that they followed paths that should not be taken.

“I know. I just ….”

“It’s alright, love.”

“I do recommend resuming the consumption of supplements, your majesty. I will forward a list of foods and beverages that will ease your upset stomach to the kitchen staff.”

“Thank you, Baymax. I am satisfied with my care.”

Two lollipops appeared but before Hux could take his they both floated out of reach.

“Kylo!”

“After you take your supplements.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“I do.” A kiss on the brow chased his scowl away, and he gulped down the handful of capsules with a glass of water. “There. Happy?”

“With you? Always.”

They took their usual morning stroll across the gardens, steps slow, Hux gripping his cane with one hand and holding Kylo’s hand with the other. He had audiences this afternoon, but no other demands on his day until the evening reception. Their empire tended to run itself lately, a good sign that it would continue to do so after his death.

“Have I ever told you how happy I am that you skipped your physical?” Kylo asked as they stood in their favorite spot, a red and gold painted bridge above a pond thick with fragrant water flowers, a riot of color in the early morning light.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“And after all these years, are you still truly satisfied with your care?”

“Yes, Kylo, I am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, happily ever after at last. Thank you all for bearing with me while this story tried to make itself told. All your comments have meant the world! <3


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